Operation: Get Russia Fat(ter)
by FrozenLakeBeast
Summary: China likes chubby guys. Russia fits that standard pretty well. As always, there are problems. Warning: This is pretty totally a weight gain fic. Please, if you don't like that sort of thing, ignore this it's fine.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, yo, hey. Of course I felt the need to infiltrate even your most sacred grounds. But, this was intended to be chapter-y, so chapter-y it shall be. **

**ALSO: For general info, see my profile, please. (I put stuff there so I wouldn't have to put it on everything I do ever.) Also, I believe now is when I give the constant "DON'T LIKE DON'T READ" slogan. Heed this, please.**

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China hurried through the hallway. The hallway that was so long, dark, and cold, it seemed almost as if no one could live here. Except that someone did live here. A great deal of someones, actually. How could they live in such a dreary place?

He didn't have time to ponder the question. Finally, he reached the door at the end of the hall he had been aiming for. He slammed the door open and burst in quickly, a little flustered, but still graceful (as always).

Russia, sitting at his desk, seemed very occupied with something and didn't look up at the noise. He had his coat on his lap, a handkerchief in one hand, and an open bottle of vodka on the desk. He was scrubbing his coat furiously with the handkercheif. Judging by the look on Russia's face, it didn't seem to be doing a whole lot of good.

China cleared his throat and Russia looked up, blushing. "Oh, hello China. Sorry. It's beautiful out today, isn't it? I was out walking it and enjoying the warm weather, but I must not have been wearing the right footwear because I slipped in mud! I'm fine, but my coat is all muddy on the back. I was trying to get it out, but it doesn't seem to be working." He sighed, "I'll have to have Lithuania wash it, I guess."

"Ah, yes, I hope you get it out. Is this a bad time to discuss the aid for nuclear development?" China asked.

Russia looked vaugely uneasy at the question, very much like he wanted to answer with 'Yes', but instead responded with, "Of course not. Come." He ushered China over to a sitting area with a small couch and a plush chair.

As Russia took the chair and motioned China to the couch, China noticed something and immediately tuned Russia out, nodding and agreeing at various times.

Russia was slightly pudgy. It was true that nearly all nations who attended World Meetings and had a sense of the world around them suspected this, but no one was certain. How could they be, with his ever-present coat? But here he was, coatless, his sweater faintly outlining the contours of his midsection. When he leaned back, the sweater rode up just enough to tease China with a small roll of fleshy stomach.

China knew what he wanted. He wanted to stuff Russia until he filled that chair, and icuddle/i with him, and-

Russia was calling him. "China? Are you alright? Do you agree?"

"Oh," China scrambled to thing of something intelligent to say. "Yes, I'm fine. I would be delighted to...do as you wish."

"Really?" Russia sounded surprised, and China wondered just what he had agreed to. "This is good news! I will write the report for our bosses, since I came up with it. Do you need to be seen out?"

China shook his head. "No, I know the way."

"Good! Oh you're taking it so well!'

China began to worry, a little, at this. Was it bad? It couldn't be that terrible. If it had been, their bosses would have been the ones talking with them standing in the background or something. Instead, China thought about how to make his fantasy real.

He would start subtle. And he would start tomorrow.

Grinning, he left the house and began walking home, playing his plan out in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Being a country comprised of a large amount of starving people, Russia was always hungry. It didn't matter that he (usually) had enough food and something in his stomach, there was a great national hunger dwelling inside him constantly. Sometimes, though, he couldn't distinguish the national hunger from physical hunger, and ended up eating much more than necassary.

This was problematic.

His metabolism, unlike America's (who apparently had the same problem but was much worse at hiding it) was painfully slow. So when he overate, he gained weight faster than most others. He had always struggled to keep himself from being too overweight and for the most part it worked. But sometimes he forgot.

On Monday, Russia found a tray of _crêpes Suzette_ in his office. He asked everyone in the house; no one knew. So he made Latvia eat one, just to make sure they weren't poisoned. They weren't. (Or it was a very slow-acting poison.)

Once Russia was certain no one was trying to kill him, he went back to his office. He sat in his chair and ate one. It was good. But who had made them, and why? France? But he had to reason to. In fact, didn't all of the Western World hate him? He took another crêpe and idly wondered if whoever made them wanted their tray back.

Russia panicked when he reached for one and discovered the tray was empty. How could it be empty? There had been a good couple dozen!

He composed himself and resolved to simply not eat much at dinner.

It turned out to be much easier said than done.

"Mr. Russia? Are you feeling alright?" Lithuania asked.

"Of course. Why do ask?"

"Well you haven't eaten much of your dinner. Usually by now you're asking for seconds."

"I'm just not very hungry today, is all." But he finished his dinner anyway. Because he _was _hungry.

On Wednesday, Estonia came to his office with an English coffee cake.

"It was on the front porch. There was a note with your name on it, but nothing else. Do you know where it came from?"

Russia didn't. He did, however, ask if Estonia wanted some. Estonia paled, quickly and politely declined, and suddenly remembered how busy he was. So Russia asked everyone else in the household, all of who reacted to same way (except for Latvia, who fainted at the prospect of sharing a dessert with Russia).

He went back to his office, a little upset that no one wanted to share. The entire government was based on sharing! He supposed he could could force it on them, but that seemed wrong, somehow.

Again, he ended up eating the entire thing and not realizing it until it was gone. There was no way it was made by England. Someone, somewhere, had decided to take on the challenge of making England's cooking edible, and succeeded.

The next couple of weeks continued the pattern. Russia would recieve a dessert from a mysterious source, he would try to share it with everyone, and end up eating it all himself. He felt a bit like he was betraying himself when he ate the apple pie, but throwing it out was wasteful and (he knew) there were starving people who would love to have it. Like himself.

At first he ignored how tight his pants were getting, before he finally gave in and switched to his winter-time clothes (where the only difference was that they were two sizes bigger) even though it was now June.

It didn't matter. He'd be fine.


	3. Chapter 3

Lithuania quietly walked into Russia's room, gently closing the door behind him. He walked over to Russia's dresser, opened a drawer, and began taking out the clothes he wore most often. When he finished, he went to the closet and transfered Russia's winter clothes to his dresser. They were a little thicker, but bigger. They would do for now.

Lithuania started walking back to his room (quietly, quickly, and careful not to be seen). Out of nowhere, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, with a whispered,"Lithuania. Can you do me a favor?"

Slightly startled but remaining calm, Lithuania replied, "Not here. Follow me to my room. We won't be disturbed for a bit."

Once there, Lithuania put the clothes on his bed as China shut the door.

"I have a favor to ask of you," China repeated, "Can you do it?"

"It depends on what it is. But why me?" Lithuania asked, as he searched for his sewing kit.

"I heard you cook for the household," said China.

"I do." Ah-ha! Lithuania picked up the sewing box from it's place in his closet.

"Good. Now, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, please, could you make sure Russia eats more?"

The box crashed to the floor. Lithuania stared at China. "You want me to _what_?"

China suddenly looked quite a bit less confident than when he came in, and hesitated when he spoke. "I...want you, however you can, aru, to make sure that Russia eats more than he does. So he can get...fat...ter. I would do it myself, but...you're in a really good position, aru."

"You want Russia to get fatter than he already is?"

"Yes, aru, I would like that."

"I'm going to pretend that that makes sense. Do you have any idea how heavy he is already? When he passes out downstairs I'm the one who has to bring him upstairs, and, trust me, that is not easy. And did you know he's a restless sleeper? He crawls into bed with me sometimes because he's cold, or scared, or lonely, or just wants to bother me. He sleeps all over. Usually, he ends up laying on top of me and I can't breathe." Lithuania took a breath, and began ushering China out of the room. "Sorry, but no. I can't do it. Now, I have a lot of things to do. Have a nice day."

As China left, Lithuania sat down on his bed, picked up the sewing box, and began letting out all of Russia's clothes.

Lithuania stood in the kitchen wondering if he had all the ingrediants he would need to make dinner. Probably not, but he would make do. He only hoped Russia wouldn't be too angry, or insulted.

Once the table was set and everyone was seated for dinner, Lithuania went back into the kitchen to make sure a fire wouldn't start while he was eating. It looked safe, so he went back out. Everyone seemed to be enjoying it...except for Russia, who was frowning down at his plate.

"Litva, what is this?"

"Ahh! I...Its a nice summer dish. A salad. I thought that since it was getting warmer out, we could try something...different. As a change of pace? Because-"

"Ah, Litva, always so thoughtful. But what about about poor little Latvia? He's so small...he might disappear if he doesn't eat something of substance!"

At that, Latvia looked very uncomfortable and began shoveling food into his mouth, stuttering out a muffled "It's good, I'm fine!"

Russia frowned at him. "No, no. This just won't do. Go back and cook some _real_ food, Litva. But you should leave this here."

When Lithuania came back out of the kitchen (with "real" food this time), Russia was leaning back in his chair, rubbing his bloated stomach. His plate was empty, as was everyone else's. Judging by the looks of awe and mild disgust, he must have eaten everyone else's, as well as his own.

"Ah, Litva! You're cooking is just so good! But I don't know if I can finish more."

He could, apparently. He could finish two helpings of it. He only stopped when Lithuania refused him a third. Though Russia insisted he was not full, Lithuania could clearly tell he was. He did _not_ need Russia getting sick.

Lithuania shoved Russia's old clothes under his bed with his books. He had just come back from replacing Russia's wardrobe (again) with newer, bigger clothes. He frowned at the pile. What could he do with all of them? Use them for something useful, probably. Like curtains. Or a tablecloth.

Someone knocked on the door. Lituania quickly covered the pile and his books, and opened the door.

"Hello Lithuania."

"Good afternoon, China. How are you?"

Ignoring the question, China asked, "Have you given any thought to what I asked?"

"I don't need to. I won't help you with this. Besides, he's doing a fine job of getting fat on his own."

"Are you sure you're not going to help? What if I told you that I had told Russia you've been stealing from his vodka stash?"

"He knows that I wouldn't do that," said Lithuania.

"I didn't say you were drinking it," China snapped.

"What would I do with it?" asked Lithuania.

"What if I told him you were stealing it for Latvia? You would do something like that, right?"

"Probably not. But Russia might believe that...," Lithuania hesitated. "But I could prove that I wasn't stealing it. He could just count and see that none were missing. Or I could replace them."

China thought for a moment, then said, "You like books, right? In your language?"

"Of course I do. Who doesn't?," said Lithuania, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"I can get you some. As many as I can. If you'll help me."

Lithuania thought. Really, what did he care if China wanted Russia fat? It wasn't his problem. He iwould/i have to live with Russia, but Russia was a grown man! He didn't need Lithuania to take care of him. If Russia wanted to be fat, Lithuania wasn't going to stop him. Finally, he sighed and said, "Yes. I will help you. I'll make sure that Russia eats more."

China grinned and shook hands with Lithuania. "Pleasure doing business with you, aru."

That night at dinner (a large affair with multiple courses), Russia made an announcement.

"You should all work much harder in keeping this house in good shape, especially since my sisters are coming back from observing..._things_...in Siberia next week. Or the week after. Soon."

Oh, dear.

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**A/N: China's 'aru' is more of nervous tic thing. And I know I mention the clothes twice with two different people. I don't feel like fixing it. This is kind of old and I don't know if I like it anymore. But, obvs, I like torturing myself, yay. **


	4. Chapter 4

It was a month, actually.

A month of cleaning the house, ikeeping/i it clean, mending and replacing clothes, and making sure Russia stayed clueless of what was going on.

It was a miracle Latvia didn't say anything.

This was partially due to the fact that Estonia followed him like a shadow, shoving him into a room or wall and covering his mouth every time Russia appeared.

The day Russia's sisters came, the realization that his_ i_sisters/i were coming finally sank in. Ten minutes before they were due to arrive, Russia locked himself in his office. Lithuania was, of course, more than happy to recieve the guests (namely Belarus). The guests, however, were expecting their brother. As a result, Lithuania was simultaneously crushed in a hug and thrust aside. As he recovered from the lack of breath and a sudden headache, he decided today was definitely the best day ever, regardless of the inevitable disater about to unfold.

Belarus was less than pleased when it dawned on her the man standing in front of her (who she had already prepared to latch onto) was not her brother. Since she was already throwing herself at him when she discovered this, she thought quickly and molded her hug into a tackle.

Once she got Lithuania out of the way, she charged down the hall towards her brother's office with her sister (who was apologizing profusely to the pathetic subordinate, something about a concussion) in tow. When she got there she immediately began banging on the door and demanding to be let in. Her sister, usually a bit more rational in these matters, mentioned that they had really come a long way and wanted to see their dear brother again, and also were just a tad bit hungry and would it be okay if she made lunch? Whether it was hearing his elder sister's voice accompanying the younger, or the promise of food, the door opened.

Well.

The person standing in front of her certainly sounded, acted, and dressed like her brother, but in no way could be. He was much too big.

Russia looked significantly fatter than the last time she had seen him. He now literally looked as if he was about to burst out of his pants at any moment. She couldn't see how much the button was straining, though (she guessed a lot, if it was buttoned at all), because his stomach was hanging over the waistband of the pants. His sweater strained against his stomach, and he kept pulling it down. He didn't seem to notice a thing. If he did, he didn't let on.

Belarus ignored the sudden warmth in her belly and how isoft/i he felt when she hugged him. Ukraine looked a little surprised as she sunk in a bit. Belarus knew that Ukraine was far too nice to mention anything, so she decided she wouldn't either. Not yet, at least.

As the sisters untangled themselves from hugging their brother, Russia looked down in mild surprise at being shown affection in a non-violent manner from Belarus.

"So can I make lunch?" Asked Ukraine. Belarus was now pretty sure this was the reason Russia opened the door.

"Lithuania is probably already making it. But you can help if you want," said Russia. Ukraine smiled and hugged Russia again, and went down to help Lithuania.

"Go help her," Russia said, as he gave Belarus a light push toward the kitchen.

"But I want to stay with you. I haven't seen you in a long time. We should catch up."

"We can catch up later. Over lunch. But now I'm busy. I'll come later." With that, Russia retreated back into the safety of his office and swiftly shut the door.

Belarus reluctantly followed her sister into the kitchen, where Lithuania was cooking up a storm. There were half-done meals everywhere. Ukraine gestured for Belarus to come over to where she was standing and kneading dough. Belarus made her way over to her (pushing aside Lithuania so hard he stumbled a bit), and started slicing vegetables into tiny, perfect squares.

They did catch up over lunch. Or, Ukraine and Belarus caught Russia up with what they had been doing. Russia seemed more interested in stuffing his face and literally devouring everything in sight.

Well, that cleared ithat/i up.

When they finished lunch, Ukraine wandered off somewhere (to her room, presumably), Lithuania started cleaning up, and Russia went back to his office. Belarus quietly followed him.

As he walked, he pulled his sweater down over his gently swaying stomach. It didn't stay down long, though, since walking just made it ride up again. When they got to his office, Belarus snuck beside him (this was a lot harder than it used to be) and hid before he noticed anything. She had perfected her technique some time ago.

Once Russia sat down and pulled down the sweater iagain/i, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach for a bit before continuing his work. But even as he worked his right hand wandered down and continued to rub his stomach, causing the sweater to, once again, ride up. Belarus chose this as the perfect time to act. She quietly walked up behind him, leaned down so her mouth was at his ear, grabbed a lovehandle, and said, "Lithuania is making you fat."

Russia let out a yelp as he jumped and turned to face Belarus. "B-Belarus! Where did you come from?"

Ignoring his question, she repeated herself. "Lithuania is making you fat."

"What are you talking about? Of course he isn't."

Belarus moved her hand and poked his stomach. "Look."

"But it's always done that."

"Not this," she said, as she lifted his stomach and let it drop, watching it jiggle.

Russia watched in fascination, as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh," he said in a small voice.

Belarus had now, somehow and suddenly, gotten herself to the other side of the desk and was crawling over it. "Lithuania thinks if he makes you fat no one will want you." Russia sat, too shocked at the current stream of events to do anything. "But he's wrong. I'll want you forever no matter what you look like." And at that, she lunged for his scarf. Russia quickly got over his shock and, with the threat of being attacked, stood and pushed her out of the way in the most gentle way he could. It was gentle enough to send her toppling backwards over the desk.

He ran to the nearest bathroom.

As a personal rule, Russia did not look at full-length mirrors. He never liked what he saw, and felt that would be a terrible way to start the day.

But how could he not of known? He guessed that explained the newfound difficulty in taking showers, picking things up, and getting his pants on. But, how oblivious_ i_was/ihe? He began to feel like a bit of an idiot. Instead, he thought about the other thing Belarus had said. About Lithuania.

Did his dear Litva really want him to be fat? Was that...was that why they had been having so many wonderful meals lately? But...well, he guessed it made sense. A little. Lithuania liked America, right? (Whoops, there went the hot water handle. Russia casually threw it over his shoulder, where it made a nice-sized dent in the wall before clattering to the ground.) And America was fat. Well okay maybe not ifat/i, but that just meant Lithuania would love Russia ieven more/i, right?

So Russia came up with a plan. He would get fat for his dear Litva. Because maybe then he would love him. He walked back to his office (vacant, now, Belarus was probably off plotting or threatening someone) and opened his biggest desk drawer. He had begun stowing his mysterious treats away when the meals got larger. The meals always left him feeling so full that he didn't feel like eating them. Now, though...he pulled up a tray and began to snack as he finished his work.


	5. Chapter 5

Russia's face felt warm. Only his face, though, everywhere else felt normal. He cracked open an eye, wondering if some sort of heating implement had found it's way onto the right side of his face.

There wasn't one. There was, however, a yellow patch of sun that had snuck between the curtains, which landed on his head and pillow.

Yes, this was nice. Not quite ready to get up yet but suddenly in a wonderful mood (getting woken up by the sun! How lucky!), and blocking all bad thoughts from his mind, he thought about the day. Something important was going to happen today, but...what was it?

Ah! Right. Find and confront Lithuania. He had suddenly disappeared after Belarus had said...what she said. Every time Russia found him, he was busy, or it wasn't a good time to bring the topic up.

But today. Today he would no matter what. But wasn't there something else...? No, definitely not. Just find Lithuania.

His stomach growled, and he had the sudden urge to use the bathroom. Slightly annoyed at having to leave his bed, he grunted and literally rolled out, bringing the blankets down with him. He got up and shuffled first towards the bathroom, then to find breakfast.

After washing up (but not changing or getting ready, what was the hurry?), Russia made his way to the kitchen. Surely Litva would be there - he practically _lived_ in the kitchen. Russia yawned and stretched, and said a, "Good morning, Litva," which yielded no response. He blinked and looked around and, sure enough, Lithuania was no where to be seen. Where on _Earth_ could he be hiding?

Unfortunately for that train of thought, Russia's stomach growled again, and he was off again, wandering around for breakfast. Because he shouldn't have to make it himself when there were three lovely little countries who could make it for him. Eventually, he found himself in the dining room, where a large breakfast was layed out and, _ohhh_, that looked good. He hoped to not-God that the Baltics had already eaten, before sitting down and shoveling as much food in his mouth as he could at once without choking (which, in retrospect, might not have stopped him).

Russia sighed and leaned back, rubbing his stomach. After finishing nearly everything, he felt quite full, and it was a great feeling. Before he worked up the energy and motivation to stand, he just sat and enjoyed the feeling of fullness. _Finally_, he stood up (with a bit more difficulty than normal) and made his way back to his room to shower and get ready for the day.

Just as he stepped out of the shower, he heard on knock on his bedroom door. Grabbing a towel, he covered what he could and opened the door. Lithuania stood on the other side. He thrust a pair of pants in Russia's face and started walking away, saying "Those should fit." Russia shouted after him, which earned him a Look, and "You're meeting with China in an hour. Hurry up" and Lithuania ran down the hall.

...Oh. So _that's_ what he had to do today (other than talk to Lithuania). So...he better find something to wear.

For the about the past two weeks, Russia hadn't dressed as he normally did, substituting his pants for sweats and forgoing his coat completely (it suddenly refused to close, for some reason). So it would feel a little odd to have pants that buttoned, he supposed.

Getting dressed proved to be a bit more difficult than originally expected. Even the pants Lithuania shoved in his face. Those began resisting around the thighs. He kept pulling, though. He was _strong_ and wasn't going to let _pants_ get the better of him.

Once they reached his hips the stopped and refused to go any higher. Which was totally fine by Russia, but now he needed them to _close_. But no matter how much he pulled, they wouldn't touch. Of course, being able to _see_ would have been a great help.

Russia heard footsteps. Leaving his pants in an awkward half-on state, he shuffled over to the door, opening it a crack. He put his arm out and caught whoever was walking by, earning himself a high-pitched startled yelp. Ah. Latvia. He pulled Latvia in.

"Help me with this." Russia said, gesturing to his pants.

"W-what do you w-want m-me to do?" Latvia asked.

"I'm going to pull the flaps together. You button it when they get close. I don't care about the zipper."

Latvia nodded and they started. They got nowhere. However, during the process of trying to get his pants on, Russia backed up into the bed, falling backwards on to it and bring Latvia with him.

Unfortunately, Estonia wandered by, looking for Latvia. Ohh, and he found him. Face down on Russia's stomach, arms and legs sprawled _all over_ Russia. Estonia's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to shout-

and found a hand over his mouth. "SH. China's here, don't shout." Lithuania then brushed past Eduard, and went inside Russia's room.

Pulling Latvia off Russia, he said, "Why aren't you dressed yet? China is downstairs waiting. Hurry up." And he turned and started to leave the room, dragging Latvia along.

Russia shot up and grabbed Lithuania's free arm. "Wait! Help me get dressed."

Lithuania gave Russia another Look, this time with a dash of Are You Serious. "You're a grown man. I'm sure you can manage," he said while trying to shake Russia off.

Russia held tight. "But! Nothing fits!"

"And who's fault is that? Maybe if you didn't eat so much all the time you wouldn't have this problem."

Russia stared at Lithuania, completely confused, and hurt, and, and _so many feelings_. He tried to form a coherent sentence. "But...I thought...Didn't...? Belarus said you liked...this" as he gestured to his stomach, still slightly bloated from breakfast.

Lithuania froze. "I-I...D-...No." He gently pulled his arm out of Russia's now-slack grip and shoved Latvia towards the door. "Put on plain black sweatpants and a big sweater. I don't think China will mind." He then turned around and left.

Russia stood in the middle of his room, perplexed. What just happened? He put on what Lithuania had told him to, and _certainly_ didn't cry.

China stood in Russia's office. On a table near the door sat a tray of deserts. He was excited. He'd been looking foward to today since the last time he was here. Had his plan worked? He bobbed up and down, anxious to see. And today, _today_, they would confess their feelings for each other and China would take Russia and-

The door opened and Russia walked in, looking _significantly_ heavier than last time (and absolutely _stunning_), and...miserable? Oh, this was going to be good.

"Russia! What's the matter, aru?" China asked as he picked up a treat from the tray and inspected it.

Russia looked at China with wide eyes and a slight frown. "Nothing is wrong. Regarding this meeting, I don't remember where I put my notes, but if you'll wait for just a moment-"

"Oh, I'll wait as long as you want." And in a swift movement completely disregarding what he just said, China launched himself at Russia. Surprised, Russia stumbled backward a few steps as he caught China.

"China, wh-" But before he could say any more, China shoved whatever had been in his hand into Russia's mouth. Hm. Whatever it was was pretty good.

China hopped off Russia and started leading him over to the seating area where the whole thing began. "Here, sit down. I'll make you feel better." He reached behind him and tugged the tray closer to them.

"But I already said-" And Russia found himself, again, with a treat shoved in his mouth. China pushed Russia back a bit so he was in a relaxed position, tugged up Russia's sweater, and shoved another sweet in his mouth.

"_Ohh_." Oh _yes_ he was beautiful. So smooth and soft and _such_ pale skin. China couldn't resist giving Russia's stomach a poke before rubbing it.

Russia was about to protest _yet again_, but instead allowed his eyes to become half-shut because _wow_ that felt _good_.

China began whispering in Russia's ear as he continued to play with his stomach. Every time Russia tried to speak, he popped another sweet in his mouth. He just couldn't get over how _big_ Russia had gotten. And China had plans of making him _even bigg_-

Russia shoved China away and, face red, tugged his sweater back down (which promptly rode up again). "_What_ are you _doing_?"

"I-I want-"

"_No_. We are not. That's what this meeting was _supposed_ to be about."

China sat on the couch, looking quite confused. "But-but I thought you _wanted_...You ate the deserts I left outside your door! Lithuania told me, aru!"

Those were from _China_?! _Well_, if Russia had known _that_ he wouldn't have eaten them! (Okay, that was kind of a lie, but still. He would have been _much_ more insistant in sharing with his housemates if he'd of known _that_.) More importantly, Lithuania had been in cahoots with China? _His_ Lithuainia? Russia felt ill. "This meeting...Our friendship. We're not as close as we were, yes?" Ignoring China's indignant stare, he continued, "It might be better if we did this another time, or over the phone, or wrote to each other. Please go, now."

"But-!" Russia glared at China, who did the right thing and _shut up_.

As China left, Russia sat on his couch and blocked out the bad thoughts again. He had woken up so happy this morning! What had gone wrong?

China left Russia's house, deep in thought. He wasn't giving up that easy. He wanted, no, _needed_ Russia. China would get him someday, certainly. _Someday_.

* * *

**A/N:** **Maybe someday I'll give this a better ending. lol, yeah okay self that'll happen ****_for sure_****.**


End file.
